[Do you wish to proceed?]
I watched Orson gaze at Willow Pruitt with such tenderness. The last flicker of hesitation in my heart went dark.
"No problem. Start."
[Executing deprivation protocol... Progress: 1%. Estimated completion time: 7 days.]
Orson didn't notice my reaction.
He was too busy cradling a wedding gown worth tens of millions, presenting it to Willow like an offering.
When we got married, we couldn't afford a ceremony. Couldn't afford anything.
Orson had promised me—on our tenth anniversary, he'd give me the grandest wedding I'd ever dreamed of.
This gown was the one I'd commissioned from a master couturier in Paris. For the wedding seven days from now.
Now he wanted to put it on her.
"Honey, don't look at Willow like that."
Orson turned to me, brow furrowed.
"She's just a child, controlled by that damned System. She could die any moment. We have the means to help—why wouldn't we?"
"It's just a dress. You have a whole closet full. You won't miss one."
Willow huddled in the corner of the sofa, wearing the silk pajamas I'd just bought. She lifted her head, timid as a wounded fawn, eyes brimming with tears.
"Orson... is she mad at me?"